


Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You

by RawrLeaf



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Drug Use, F/F, Fluff, Non-Graphic Torture Scene, Not graphic or detailed, Soft!Joan, but present, eating disorder tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RawrLeaf/pseuds/RawrLeaf
Summary: Joan notices something off about Vera and invites her to dinner. The inmates have regrets...
Relationships: Vera Bennett/Joan Ferguson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mild mentions of food issues and severe weight loss.

Joan’s gaze follows her Deputy out of the office. Vera had been on-time, competent, and had gotten much firmer with some of the inmates over the last two months. What Joan seemed to be the only one concerned with was the fact that Vera was getting thinner as the days went by. 

Making the decision to find out what was going on, Joan set an alarm for an hour before their shift ended to bring Vera back here and invite her to dinner. She will not allow Vera to collapse at Wentworth. The prisoners would have a field day. Joan isn’t sure she could save her any better than the day of the riot.

\------------------

Vera rounds the corner to H-Block for the hundredth time that day. This group needs some sleeping pills! She thought with a hint of malice. 

“Doyle!” She yells through the bars at the end of the common area. Instead of Franky, she gets Maxine.

“She took the new girl to the showers, Ms. Bennett. Bea caught her drinking.” Maxine liked the smaller woman and had been given orders to watch her when she was among the rabble. “She might have wound up in medical, though.”

“Thank-you, Conway.” Vera flips around and walks to the shower unit. The last thing any of them needed today was a prisoner in Medical for alcohol poisoning.

\----------------

Joan’s alarm pinged just in time for the pencil to snap between Joan’s fingers. _Mr. Fletcher’s last day is tomorrow. I won’t have this happen here._ Satisfied with that last thought, Joan clicks her radio and calls for Vera. “Come to my office.”

“Yes, Governor.” Crackled back allowing Joan to breathe deeply and wait. She wasn’t concerned about Vera accepting her invitation. She was concerned about whether Vera would actually eat in front of her. According to Miles, Vera hadn’t been eating in the lounge but taking her lunch somewhere else. 

Vera knocks softly, weariness seeping into her bones without her consent. 

“Come.” 

“You wanted to see me, Governor?” Vera stands as straight as she can, trying to hide the wince as her shoulder pulls to remind her she’d been shoved earlier that day.

“Dinner. My house. Tonight.” Joan modified her tone, realizing Vera’s spine had straightened. “Just bring yourself. 7PM, alright?” 

“Yes, Governor. Is there anything else?” Joan’s slight shake of her head causes Vera to spin and close the door with a snap, heels clicking down the hallway.

 _God, Joan, could you actually blink before issuing orders to Vera?_ Her mother’s voice was a very rare thing in her head, but her father had finally left her after the riot, leaving a softer ghost poking her in a better direction. _I’ll make it up to her soon._

Joan closes her computer, clicks the lights, and stalks the hallway to reception to sign out for the night. Leaving early was unheard of for her. Coming in two hours early to clean up a mess made entirely by officer negligence had left her testy and itching to punch someone so she left before she did.

\-------------

“Vera! Come in.” Joan helps Vera out of her jacket and hangs it up next to hers. “No shoes, please.” She smiles softly and holds her arm out to Vera who wrinkles her nose and wraps her hand around Joan’s elbow.

“What did you make?” She could smell it outside the door but couldn’t place the smell.

Joan huffs a laugh, “Stew with lamb. That smell is the mint.” Stopping at the table, she pulls out a chair, “Sit, I’ll be right back.”

Vera’s eyes fall to the table, candles flickering gently. The nauseous feeling she’d become accustomed to had faded a bit now that she was in Joan’s presence. “Thank-you, Joan.” She whispers as a bowl is settled in front of her. 

“You’re welcome. Please, enjoy.” Joan spears a carrot and pops it in her mouth. _Patience, Joan._ Internally rolling her eyes, she swallows before testing the waters. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we’ve had a debrief.”

Vera sighs softly and looks down. “I’m fine. Did you get the situation settled with the board?” 

Noting the dodge, Joan lets it slide, “Channing will never be satisfied, but the rest of the board signed off this afternoon.” Channing would be dealt with soon. Mr. Fletcher first.

“Doyle admitted defeat and brought a prisoner to Medical today. The new girl got alcohol from somewhere but no one is risking Smith’s wrath.” Jenkins’ hands had never quite healed from the steam press. No one else wanted that fate. 

“Bring Smith to me tomorrow morning. Alcohol will not be tolerated if that’s how the next overdoses are going to happen.” Drugs had been mostly taken care of, alcohol wasn’t as much of a concern as the consequences didn’t leave foam-mouthed inmates all over her prison. 

“Yes, Governor.” Vera’s automatic reply causes Joan’s mouth to twitch. “Vera...surely in my own home you could call me Joan, hmm?” 

“I’m sorry, Joan. Habits get away from me sometimes.” Truth be told, the tone in Joan’s voice was her trigger. She slides her half-empty bowl forward a bit. “Thank-you for dinner.” 

Joan nods and smiles at her companion. “Would you like to stay for a bit?” Vera’s looser blouse can’t cover the sharp dips in her collarbone and Joan is even more concerned now than she had been this morning. 

“If you let me help clean this up.” The challenge in Vera’s voice earns her a laugh. “Come on, then.” 

Vera sat up on the counter in order to dry and put the bowls back in the cupboard above her. Joan pokes her ribs, “You know there’s a step under the sink, yes?” 

“I’m not taller than you with just the step.” Vera also had this thing about sitting on her own counters with her tea in the morning. The world looked so weird. “How do you live up here? Everything is angled wrong.” The chairs look wrong, and the window angle had her looking at Joan’s neighbor’s patio instead of their garden. 

Joan tilts her head, forehead creasing, “I don’t suppose I’ve ever thought about it.” She knew she was taller than most women, but the concept of vantage point hadn’t really occurred to her where shorter people were concerned. 

“Can we go outside?” The sun had set but it was warming up as they dove towards summer. Vera wonders if Joan’s garden smells as beautiful as it looks. 

Joan holds out her hands to help Vera off the counter. “Let me grab a blanket and I’ll meet you out there.” She nods toward the sliding doors and watches Vera almost skip outside with a smile.

“How long did it take to grow these?” Joan looks up at the smaller brunette and laughs. “Those have taken two years to grow properly!” One would think honeysuckle was easy. Vines were supposed to grow like weeds, no? 

“Did you put a barrier down?” Joan’s widened eyes said, yes. “I’ve not had much luck with barriers under any vine plant.” She’d been told to put them in the garden but had wound up taking them all out after a few years and accepted the weeds. 

Setting the blanket down, Joan walks up next to Vera, a hand coming up to lay on her right shoulder. “I wish they’d last longer. Mid-summer seems too early to let such beauty go.” Vera nods and presses against Joan’s side. 

“Gardening sounds fun, and looks pretty, but I don’t look forward to the end of a season.” Vera’s thumbs weren’t exactly green, but watching the garden fade in the fall was her least favorite part.

“Come, let’s sit.” She pulls Vera gently with her to the loungers in the yard. Sitting down, she gently yanks Vera down to sit in front of her, throwing the blanket over them and leaning back. “How long do you think Doyle’s new heart will last?” 

Vera rolls her eyes and flops back onto Joan’s chest. “Tomorrow morning’s wakeup call to make breakfast.” Joan’s chuckle reverberates through her, a warmth lingering in her bones.

“Wait until she finds out that Jenkins’ hooch has vanished.” The new girl was certainly going to cause her more headaches than Doyle, Gambaro, and Smith combined.

Vera huffs and shifts to her side, laying her head on Joan’s shoulder. “Her muscles will get some exercise at least.” Vera hated the outcome of a bashing, but in this case she hoped a lesson would be learned by at least one of the inmates.

 _Now or never, Joan._ Her arms come up to wrap around Vera, jaw hardening at the feel of ribs through Vera’s blouse. Voice soft, she asks, “How long have you been skipping meals?” 

Vera stiffens in fear, breathing suddenly shallow. _You stupid girl! Will you ever learn how to hide your imperfections?!_

“Vera!” Joan’s voice was so far away. Tears falling rapidly, all she could hear was her mother’s words, face and hands full of anger.

 _Well, this is not how I wanted this to go._ “Vera, breathe with me…” Catching Vera’s eyes, she sees a flicker of recognition and lays her hand on Vera’s chest, beginning to count out her breaths. After a few minutes, Vera starts to match her enough to slow them both down. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to send you into a panic attack.” 

Vera shakes her head and nuzzles into Joan’s neck. “Not your fault,” comes the cracked whisper. Joan’s arm wrapping around her tighter cause a shiver to race up her spine. She’d fought these feelings for so long already, her fragile emotions weren’t up for the fight anymore. “Can I stay with you tonight?” 

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” Joan presses a kiss to Vera’s hair, lifting her arms up around her own neck, and shifts to her feet with Vera cradled to her chest.

\-----------------------

Joan finally sets Vera down on her bed and goes to her dresser for a sleep shirt for her companion. She walks back over to hand Vera a shirt she knows would hit at least mid-thigh. “Shower is across the hall. The guest room is made if you want, or you can sleep in here.” 

“Thank-you.” Vera slips out of Joan’s bedroom and into the other bathroom to shower. Mind already made to sleep with Joan, she takes her time under the soft water, letting her worries wash away down the drain.

Vera hesitates at the door when she goes back across the hall to see Joan sitting up in bed with a book. Joan looks up with a smile and flips the covers back, “come here.” 

Vera slides into the bed, silk sheets smooth against her skin. “Do I want to know how much these cost?” 

The taller woman laughs and puts her book away, clicks the light out, and flips onto her side to face her bedmate. “More than Miles could ever dream of winning at the tracks.” She reaches out to tuck Vera’s hair behind her ear, “I would still like to know why you’ve not been eating properly.” 

Vera nuzzles into Joan’s hand on her cheek, voice soft, “I was having a bad day and someone said something out of anger. It started when I was a teenager.” She hated her issues with food and could never quite manage to make herself believe it actually had nothing to do with her, but with the other person.

Joan narrows her eyes. _One of the officers? One of the inmates? Someone was about to enjoy the slot regardless of which side of the bars they belonged on…_

Letting it go for now, Joan shuffles closer to Vera, hand slipping to her neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the fluttering pulse. “You are safe here. Close your eyes…”

Vera’s eyelids slide closed and her breathing evens out quickly under Joan’s touch.

\-----------------

Vera wakes with her face buried in Joan’s neck, leg thrown over Joan’s, hands splayed over her hip. Eyes sliding to the clock, she groans at the hour. Her alarm wouldn’t go off for another hour. Joan’s, she was sure, would go off any minute. Bladder dictating her decision, Vera carefully extracts herself from Joan’s hold and closes the door to the ensuite, hoping Joan stays asleep for as long as possible. 

When she leaves the bathroom a few minutes later, Joan is still asleep so Vera quietly leaves the bedroom for the kitchen. She desperately needs a cup of tea and knows Joan will be a grumpy grizzly without coffee. A soft laugh escapes her when she remembers Joan calling her a koala once. 

_“How do you stand this smell?” Joan’s eyes were watering at the strength of the scent permeating Vera’s living room. Eucalyptus really is distinctive, she decides. Had it always been?_

_“It’s my favorite scent. Reminds me of a zoo trip in school!”_

_“I suppose you are like a koala. Soft, adorable, claws to shred unfortunate souls.” Vera had spun around, eyebrows almost to her hairline ready to snark back until she caught the mirth in Joan’s dark eyes._

_“What would you know of claws?” The clear challenge had sent Vera running away from the taller woman, laughter sending tears down her cheeks as Joan tackled her to the couch._

_“You will take that back!”_

Startled by arms circling her waist, Vera grumbles when loud laughter meets her ears. “There’s my koala.” Joan drops her chin to Vera’s shoulder and squeezes her waist lightly, “I thought you’d left.”

Vera smirks and lifts up a fresh cup of coffee. Black. She’d heard it called cowboy coffee once. “Not a koala, a goddess.” 

Vera laughs and elbows Joan’s ribs so she can turn around. “I remember the one day you came into Wentworth and your machine had broken. Only you would refuse to go to a cafe on the way to work.”

“That would be letting the prisoners get complacent.” She did aim to scare the shit out of everyone she met after all.

Vera walks to the sink to rinse her mug. “I have to go home and change. I’ll see you at work?”

Joan reaches out to pull Vera closer again. “Don’t let them get to you before I get there.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fletcher is no longer my problem!

After Vera leaves, Joan washes their mugs and wipes down the counter. She needed to start lunch if it was going to be ready by the time she left for Wentworth. Pulling out the pan, a pot, and the dozen ingredients from her cupboard and the fridge, she set to work making lasagna for her and Vera. Skipping breakfast was something they could talk about later, but she would make sure lunch wasn’t something to be missed while they had overlapping shifts. 

Satisfied that her kitchen was again clean to her standards, Joan let the oven do its magic and went upstairs to shower and get ready. She had an officer to fire, one to feed, and a few inmates to hunt down for a lesson in humanity. Maybe she and Smith could come to an understanding…

\----------------------------------------------------

An hour after she’d arrived, there’s a knock on Joan’s door. Turning in her chair, not having expected anyone, she firmly, and hopefully terrifyingly, yells, “Come.” She’s immediately on her feet when Vera walks through her door and closes it without saying anything. 

Watching her curiously, the taller woman doesn’t see anything immediately wrong with Vera’s physical appearance, so she waits somewhat patiently and rounds her desk towards the other woman. 

Vera pauses for a moment, eyes flicking about the room, then walks into Joan's personal space, leaving the smallest gap between them. She's nervous, tired, and really just needs something she can't quite name but is certain Joan understands. Reaching for the hands that have seen far too many of her darker moments, she stares at them, squeezing softly a few times before bringing them up to her own face, eyes trained on the buttons of Joan's blazer, afraid of what she might see above her.

Joan carefully lets out the breath she'd been consciously holding. She hadn't exactly frozen when Vera had touched her hands, but she had been wary so had held still, doing her best to keep her body language soft and open. They touched often, but never at work. It didn't particularly matter that they were always behind closed blinds and a locked door. Joan refused to give a single person ammunition against either of them so had done her best to keep this side of herself at home.

Joan's hands gently cup Vera's face, ring fingers slipping just under and behind Vera's ears, soft eyes taking in the tense shoulders before her. 

Vera trails her fingers down to Joan’s elbow, hands finding her waist and gripping the blazer under her touch. Lifting her head she looks into Joan's eyes, her gaze full of steel. "Mine."

Joan's brow lifts slightly, a small smirk quirking her lips up, "Is that a promise or a threat?"

Vera continues to hold the taller woman's gaze, gripping a bit harder onto her blazer, "Yes." 

Joan chuckles and drops a kiss to the top of Vera's head. "I will hold you to that." She whispers, helping tuck Vera tight to her when the smaller woman's forehead lands on her chest with one hand around the back of her neck, the other dropping to splay across her lower back. "Spend the weekend with me?" A nod against her chest is all Vera seems to have the energy for but Joan will accept that. 

After a couple of minutes, a firm knock on the office door causes Vera to jump away from Joan but a string of muffled curses makes her giggle. "Duty calls," she says and stretches her arms above her head, waking her body back up. "Five bucks says it's Fletch."

Joan growls and glares at the door. _Can I pause the CCTV long enough to punch him?_ She turns to her companion and asks, "Do you want to stay for this?" Now that she's gathered the information to connect the drunken man on the other side of her door to the whispers that had caused Vera to spiral back into her eating issues, she really had no patience left and Mr. Fletcher is about to be informed that his days in Wentworth are over. 

While Vera would love to be the fly on the wall for this destruction, she was also tired, having skipped breakfast and suddenly having her lunch with Joan interrupted by someone she'd rather never see again. "I'll go do rounds, I think." 

Joan nods, straightening her appearance. "I will radio when he's gone so we can have lunch."

Vera smiles and heads for the door taking a deep breath before looking over her shoulder for Joan's acknowledgment. Seeing her nod, Vera opens the door with steel in her spine. "Fletch." She clips out, and takes off down the hallway, heels clicking louder than normal with her speed. 

"Do come in Mr. Fletcher, or are you a new decoration I did not order." The resulting glare makes Joan want to smirk in triumph but she holds firm in her death stare. There were so many benefits to having eyes as dark as hers. 

"I want to speak to you." Come the harsh words Joan mentally translates to _I'm here to tell you I've got "dirt" and you should be afraid._ Really was it too much to ask for stable staff these days? At least Miles could be bought!

"Are you going to sit down, or do this in a doorway?" She had no qualms about firing him very loudly for all to hear. She'd gotten board approval, not that she needed it for this, but now he couldn't do anything to save his job.

Face red, fists shaking, the rage flowing off of him in waves, he yells, "You're fucking an inmate!" Apparently, they were, in fact, doing this for all to hear. 

"Whom, exactly, have I been _fucking_ , Mr. Fletcher?" Which unclean inmate in her own prison would she ever touch? Has he actually seen the women they keep here? Yes, Jianna had been her inmate in another prison, but not a single inmate in Wentworth would ever come close to being _fucked_ by Joan Ferguson.

His smile would look triumphant if he wasn't clearly halfway inebriated a whole twenty minutes into his shift. "Franky Doyle!"

Joan's brain stops dead, voice reaching a volume not even she's aware she possesses, "EXCUSE ME?!" 

Fletch bounces on his feet like a kid finally getting that pony for his birthday, "You heard me! I have proof!" 

_Proof? What in goddess could he have for proof? Was Doyle aware of said "proof?"_ "Mr. Fletcher, whatever it is you think you have, I assure you someone is playing you." _Not that it would be the first time. Drunks really were so very easy._

His smile gets wider if that were even possible. "You were caught taking her to the boiler room and Franky appeared with hickeys the next morning!"

"Doyle fucks every pretty girl who comes into this prison, Mr. Fletcher. What could she possibly want with me in a bed?" _I wonder if Doyle is aware of what's being said up here. This would not go well for her reputation in Wentworth and they had finally managed to find common ground between them._

Fletch's face falls a bit. He hadn't thought of that. _What would Franky want with the old robot in front of him? Surely there must be something useful in fucking the Governor? But she was anti-drugs and that's Franky's best trade..._

Joan sees an opening and has to fight to contain her glee. "Mr. Fletcher, along with showing up drunk daily, making grave errors that have caused more than one inmate harm from another, and harassing your colleagues, you are now accusing your boss of illicit relations with an inmate, presenting no proof." She watches and waits for his mind to catch up to the implications she's just laid out. Finally, a smirk graces her lips, eyes going a little wild. "You have been deemed by the board to be incompetent, negligent, and a liability to this institution. You will be escorted to your locker and out of this building. You are no longer employed by Wentworth effective immediately." 

Fletch stares at the woman before him, anger building. "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" 

"Oh, but I can, and I did. You are not suited to this job, Mr. Fletcher, and you are the only person who does not seem to know that." Joan sees Mr. Jackson and another officer step into view behind Fletch and steps around her desk to her computer. "Now, Mr. Jackson will escort you to collect your things and then out of the building. Here is your official letter of separation." She slides an envelope from under her keyboard and walks it to the huffing man in her doorway. 

Fletch starts to lunge for Joan but gets caught in a chokehold and drops to his knees. "Shall we add assault to your record, Mr. Fletcher?" She hands the letter over to the other officer and looks at Will, "If you need assistance removing him, call for a police escort. They can do what they like as long as he is out of my prison in the next thirty minutes."

Will nods and the two men force Fletch to his feet before shoving him down the hall screaming. "Shut up! You did this to yourself. I warned you!" Will didn't always like Ferguson, but he couldn't see what Fletch was always so angry about when it came to their boss.

Joan closes her office door with a resounding click and takes a deep breath. _That was fun. Time for lunch! And maybe a drink._ “Sierra-one to Sierra-two." 

"Sierra-two receiving."

"Come to my office."

"Yes, Governor." Vera bids Conway goodbye and turns to head back to administration, head held high. The whispers were already flying and she'd heard Franky and Bea scream just before the music started blasting through the block.

She expects to walk up to a closed-door, eyes down to the floor as she moves, but walks straight into Joan in the hallway outside. "Sorry, Governor, I wasn't looking where I was going." 

Joan chuckles and catches Vera's elbow to steady her. "Quite alright, I was informing Braden that if I'm disturbed in the next hour whoever it is gets to do every minuscule piece of paperwork for the whole prison for the next month." 

Vera winces and looks at Joan's assistant with a gentle smile. "Start with, 'Unless you want the paperwork without the pay, get lost.'" Braden's relieved chuckle makes Vera grin and follows Joan into her office.

Vera closes the door and flicks the lock as she sinks back against it. "Can I just take a nap instead?" 

Joan looks at her with a teasing glare. "You could, but then you would miss out on lasagna!" She knows Vera has a soft spot for pasta and had hoped to surprise her after she'd left this morning.

Vera perks up and kicks her heels toward the desk. "Where did you get that from?" She asks as she moves to the kitchenette for bottles of water for them both. 

"My kitchen." Joan looks up at the breathy, "Of course you did." She smiles and offers Vera a warm container of her mother's cherished recipe. "What on earth was I supposed to do for two and a half hours between you leaving and me having to be here?" 

Vera tilts her head, "Cleaning? Laundry?" Although she knows very well that Joan is a germ freak, she did see the laundry bin in her bedroom this morning. Who would have thought Joan Ferguson would actually wait to do laundry. 

Joan squints and huffs. "Contrary to popular belief, laundry, not dishes, is the worst chore known to humankind." It wasn't the cleaning, but the putting away of everything that annoyed Joan. She might have a few issues with germs that bled into everything being just so, but laundry greatly annoyed her. Fabric couldn't just be wiped or gently bumped back into order like everything else and the frustration often led her to a couple of vodka shots and had led to ripped items in the past.

Vera chuckles as she almost flops onto Joan's couch. "Tell you what, you do dishes, I'll do the laundry, hmm?" She swears she can hear Joan's smile and glances up at her. Her breath catches in her chest at the look in dark eyes. 

Joan tries to fight the tears, not even sure where they're coming from, but one escapes to track slowly down her cheek. She feels soft hands cup her jaw and blinks at the bright blue eyes in front of her. Precious moments pass before she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Vera's lips. Head tilted down, she whispers, "Does that include ironing?"

Vera laughs, sound ringing in Joan's ears, and pulls the taller woman into a tight hug, dropping a kiss to her cheek as she tucks her head into her neck. "Only if it comes with kisses!" Goddess, she loves this stubborn woman. Maybe now they'll stop dancing around what everyone else already knows and they've been too afraid to acknowledge.

Joan holds on tighter and nods into Vera's neck. "I promise to try."

That's all Vera needs until her stomach makes itself known and Joan chuckles as she pokes her koala in the ribs. "Food. I didn't slave away in the kitchen for it to be eaten cold!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fletcher may not actually be no longer my problem....

Vera woke up feeling like she was about to run a marathon an hour before her alarm was even supposed to think of trying to rouse her. It was finally Friday and she had been waiting for three days for this. Joan had scolded her for working eight days in a row, half of them doubles, by kicking her out of Wentworth on Wednesday, telling her to go do something. She’d huffed all the way home before winding up at the beach for the first time in months. Stretching, cracking as many joints as she could, and laughing at how horrified Joan would be, Vera gets out of bed and heads for the shower. She only has a six-hour shift today and then she gets to spend the next two days off with Joan. Trying, and failing, to keep down a squeal of excitement, she turns the water on a little warmer than normal and spends half an hour under the spray.

Once dressed, minus her blazer and heels, she clicks the kettle on and checks her fridge. Grabbing the milk to dump, and some chicken she doesn’t even remember getting, she drops them with a thunk into the bin. The bag gets pulled and placed by the door just as the kettle clicks off. _Plug-in kettles should be the only kettles_ , she thinks, and grabs her favorite mug. Checking the clock, she slides up onto the counter and pops a piece of bread down for toast. 

Having decided on a second piece of toast, and wondering if time had actually stopped or she was just so lost in her own world that time slowed down, Vera squeaks when there is a knock on the front door. She glares at the clock and wonders if she could just ignore it long enough they’d go away before she had to go to work.

A second knocking, slightly louder sends her to the door. Smiling brightly, she hurriedly opens it and launches herself at her guest.

Joan has about half of a heartbeat to catch the smaller woman suddenly flying at her full tilt. Turning with the momentum, and to keep them both upright, she chuckles and plants a kiss to Vera’s cheek. “Good morning to you, too.”

Vera pulls back and looks up. “What are you doing here?” 

“I thought maybe you’d like to ride in with me today.” Truthfully, Joan just wanted every moment she could get with Vera outside of Wentworth. It might also have something to do with wanting to ride to work with Vera every day, but she was going to hold that hope for now.

Vera glances at her watch and nods. “Let me just clean-up.” Disappearing down the hall, she misses Joan’s wrinkled nose at the bag of trash next to the door and the older woman making it vanish so Vera didn’t have to. 

After dumping the trash into the bin outside, Joan softly closes the door and moves to the kitchen to wash her hands. “Did you burn something?”

Vera jumps and blushes as she turns around. “I’ve always liked dark toast.” While she had gotten better about purposely burning some of the things she ate, toast with jam tasted better when it was a little singed. 

“I’ll make a note of that.” Joan likes her coffee as black as it gets, but toast was very much a ‘lighter is better’ concept in her mind. “I thought maybe we could go to the store on the way to my house later? I recall you having a penchant for biscuits but I can’t remember which kind.” Honestly, Vera could probably clean out the whole aisle and never meet one she didn’t like, but Joan wanted her to be able to make that choice for herself. 

Smiling softly, Vera dries her hands and turns back around. “Thank you. I’d like that.” Now that she’d spend her entire shift internally debating weekend biscuits, she grabs Joan’s hand and drags her back to the front door. “I already packed a bag, do you want me to bring it now, or stop back here after work?” 

Joan chuckles, “Go ahead and grab it. I take it you cleaned out the fridge?” 

“I was not going to remember to do that later and we both know it.” Vera snarks as she disappears upstairs to grab her bag, leaving a laughing Joan behind.

Both women settled in the car, Joan takes off for Wentworth, feeling a little lighter after the last couple of days without Mr. Fletcher causing chaos wherever he went. 

\---------------------------------

“Why are the inmates outside?!” Vera’s shock causes Joan to growl and pull roughly into a parking space at the end of the car park. 

“Did your phone go off?” Joan asks as she checks her own. No notifications. Seeing Vera shake her head, No, she takes off at a full clip towards the nearest police cruiser. “Excuse me, mind telling me why my inmates are not in their units?” Breakfast wasn’t for another thirty minutes.

The officer, Joan notes ‘Sergeant’ on his tags, turns and looks grim. “Are you Joan Ferguson?” He looks down at his file when she nods her head. “Former officer, um, Matthew, got inside and set fire to the administration wing. We haven’t been able to locate him yet.” He and the two officers next to him all rapidly step backward away from the six foot woman who looks about ready to pummel anyone within her reach. “I am sorry, Governor. We have five teams inside looking.” 

Joan turns when a hand lands on her back. “What does he gain from this?” Vera asks as she rubs small circles over Joan’s tense muscles. 

“I am sure he thinks the evidence against him is inside. He never did quite grasp technology it seems.” Joan sighs and moves away to call the board. The fires appear to have been put out but the damage has been done. Thankfully they have the unused wing they could temporarily move administration into since he avoided the cell blocks. _I’ll kill him where he stands._

Vera crosses her arms and gazes at the building still smoking. “How bad is it Sergeant?” 

The clearly seasoned officer looks over at the shorter woman and risks walking closer. “Fire chief says the structure is still sound, it seems, but the floors upstairs will have to be redone. Whatever he used warped the beams, but the heat hadn’t reached the roof yet when the first trucks rolled up.”

“Thank you. Forgive her, please.” She says and nods her head towards Joan. “That officer has multiple infractions against him and this appears to be payback.” 

“If he knows what’s good for him, he wouldn’t have come back here, if you ask me.” He had seen some pretty bad choices in his career, but this, going up against Governor Ferguson, the woman terrified him just looking at her, was definitely at the top of the list of bad choices.

Vera hums and nods before walking closer to Joan, watching her weekend with the older woman disintegrate before her eyes. Close enough to hear Joan’s half of the call, Vera stops and leans against a tree at the edge of the car park, hiding in the shade and watching over the inmates she could see. 

Smiling at the sound of the women talking nicely for once, Vera jumps away from the tree she was leaning against and whips her head to look at Joan as a rather loud _THWACK_ hits a tree behind her. “What the fuck was that?!” 

Joan clenches and unclenches her fists several times before Vera sees her take a single breath. “That was me telling the board to fuck off!” As she stomps away, Vera realizes this is a side she hasn’t seen yet and lets her go. _Angry Joan is sexy. This Joan is something else entirely._

One of the police officers walks over to her and hands her Joan’s still functioning phone. “What is this thing made out of?!” 

The officer smiles and pulls the phone out of its case. “Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for whoever that was, the case it’s in is designed specifically to do what it just did.” He handed over both objects and went back to his Sergeant. _God won’t be able to save you, mate._ He thinks as he looks at the building and watches the fire team inspect the roof. 

\----------------------

Three hours later all women are back in their units, pizza currently being distributed around as a thank you from the Governor and her Deputy. None of the women had been injured, either by the building or each other, and the two believed they deserved a treat. Ice cream was headed in for dinner, but that could hold until dinner to announce.

Joan’s computer was fried, a new one was being set up as she and Vera did rounds to check on the rabble for themselves. “Who let him in, do you think?” 

Joan rolls her neck and sighs. “The new girl, I’m sure. She seemed to take to him in the three days she’d been here before I fired him.” They’d have to talk to Smith and Doyle today. “Bring me Doyle and Smith after they’re done with lunch.” 

“Yes, Governor.” Vera nods to Birdsworth and muffles a laugh at Jenkins’ trying to steal Conway’s slice of veggie pizza. “Boomer! Leave her alone! We got you one with pineapple!”

Jenkins’ immediately apologizes to no one in particular and races to the table of boxes, quickly finding the one literally with her name on it, still intact. Doing a happy jig, she dances back to the table with her mates and laughs as they all scoot away from the disgrace.

Vera notices Smith heading out of the cafeteria and walks over to meet her. “Governor wants to speak to you.” She holds up her hand when the woman’s face turns to anger. “She’s not mad at you. She needs your help.” She nods when Smith’s face returns to neutral and waves Will over. “Governor wants to see her.” Watching them walk away, she turns to Doyle when she comes up next to her. 

“We’re in trouble?!” Franky glares at the Deputy Governor with pure malice but Vera doesn’t flinch. “No, Doyle. No one here is in trouble. If you were, it wouldn’t be pizza night.” She adores Bridget, but suddenly questions the woman’s ability to read people if Franky is actually this dense. 

Franky looks down the hallway, though Bea has vanished around a corner. “Why did he do this?” 

Vera sighs and looks at the inmate. “You know what he said about you?” She’d heard it from Joan later that night and had been stuck between horror and laughing so hard she had almost fallen off of the couch. 

Franky nods. “Yeah, he thinks the Governor and I are fucking. Something about the boiler room?” She turns questioning eyes to Vera. “Why is it always the boiler room?”

Vera laughs and rolls her eyes. “Dark, steamy, almost soundproof. What else is there?” 

Franky turns a bit green and decides to never ask the Deputy Governor another question again. Except one. “Did you have to get Booms one with _pineapple_!” 

The radio cuts off Vera’s laughter, “Sierra-one to Sierra-two.” 

“Sierra-two receiving.” 

“Bring me Doyle.” 

Vera smirks when Doyle gulps. “Yes, Governor.”

“Let’s go, Franky.” Vera shoves the inmate forward gently to get her moving and chuckles to herself. _Wait until she finds out what Joan has for her birthday._

Smith is just leaving when the two enter the new temporary office. “What did she do to you?” Bea laughs and waves Franky into the office. 

Franky stands close to the door, half expecting the Governor to throw a knife at her. “Doyle, do you remember what happened earlier this week?” 

Franky cocks her head sideways and looks out the windows. “I messed up lunch, and I punched someone in the yard.”

Joan smirks and rolls her eyes. “The showers, Doyle. The new girl?”

“Oh, yeah, that. Drank too much, yeah?” Franky was sure there was something else but the girl swore she’d only had Boomer’s hooch.

Joan hums and nods. “She didn’t just drink Boomer’s stash. Someone slipped her some pills beforehand.” 

Franky’s eyes would have been comical if they weren’t currently in a building full of nervous inmates and officers. “What did she get, horse tranqs?!” When the Governor doesn’t say or do anything, Franky swears loudly. “Where the _fuck_ did those come from?” She’ll kill whoever it is.

“Mr. Fletcher, apparently. He had a prescription but there are no traces in the tests they’ve run since he was caught.” She was beyond exhausted and desperately wanted Vera and her in a bathtub full of bubbles, wine, and maybe a cabin in Antarctica where they’d never again be found.

Franky finally sat in the chair in front of the Governor’s desk. “Please tell me he’s gone for good.” She and Bea had been combating him bringing in booze and shagging some of the younger inmates when he thought no one was looking. 

“He will never again set foot inside this prison.” He would be spending considerable time in protective custody in his own cell as soon as they got everything they needed out of him. “Doyle, Franky, I’d like to make a proposal. A thank you, for all the help you’ve been to Ms. Bennett and I the last two months.” Joan holds her mask of indifference in place, causing Franky to squirm. 

“This doesn’t involve the boiler room, right?” Franky thought she might be sick.

The Governor’s face slides into a grimace, “No. That will _not_ be happening, ever.” She was glad she could make Vera laugh so hard that night, but that was an image she desperately needed her brain to file away and forget.

Franky relaxes a fraction, hands unfolding. “What do you have in mind?”

Joan stands and walks over to the windows to observe nothing in particular. “You and Ms. Westfall. You two have something happening between you.” 

As predicted, Franky jumps to her feet and yells, “She hasn’t done anything!”

Turning back around, Joan crosses her arms and looks Franky dead in the eyes. “What if I was giving you permission _to_ do something?” She quickly unfolds herself and steps forward to push Franky back into a chair before she collapses to the ground. 

“You...you want to…” Franky looks up at the towering figure above her. _Did she just say what I think she did?_

“I want to give you something...or someone, as the case may be.” Joan had thought about it for a while, Franky’s attitude and behaviors had leveled out so much since the psychologist had shown up. Vera making her back off when she’d called Joan a psychopath had helped more than the behavior changes in the women, but Vera swore they’d called a truce that day and she trusted her Deputy.

“Why?” _What hell was attached to this offer?_

“She is good for you. You appear, according to my sources, to be good for her as well. I’m not ignorant to life putting us in positions not conducive to our current reality.” She momentarily thought about Jianna and smiled at Franky, “I can’t let you out, but I can turn a blind eye to certain....benefits of closed blinds and locked doors.” 

Franky suddenly looked like every birthday wish she’d never had was being given to her at once, “Are you serious?” 

Joan nods and calls for Vera, “Take her back to her unit, please.” 

A lightbulb goes off in Franky’s eyes, “You’re finally together!” She pulls Vera into a hug and swings her around once before letting go and jumping out the door, laughter echoing behind her. 

Joan picks up her radio, “Mr. Jackson, catch and escort Doyle back to her unit.” 

“Yes, Governor,” echoes back along with Franky’s voice laughing against the walls.

“Do you think she’ll ever come back to earth?” Vera asks as she closes the door. 

Joan chuckles and throws her tie at her desk, not caring that it skids off the back. “I doubt it. She will probably give Ms. Westfall a heart attack the next shift she’s in.” She walks close to Vera and wraps her arms around her waist, “If she _ever_ picks you up like that again, she’s headed straight for the slot.”

Vera laughs and pokes Joan in her belly, “Practice for Bridget on Monday.” 

“Are you ready to go home?” Joan asks quietly. “Mr. Jackson and Ms. Miles are capable of handling tonight. Let them have the inmates on an ice cream high.” 

“I’ll meet you outside,” Vera says but is stopped short by Joan’s arms. 

“No. I’ll walk with you.” Fletcher was in custody and not going anywhere for the foreseeable future, but she would not be letting Vera out of her sight outside their homes or Wentworth for a while. “Indulge me, please?” 

The smaller woman looks into Joan’s eyes for several seconds before nodding, “For now.”


	4. Chapter 4

It takes all of four minutes after Joan pulls out of Wentworth for Vera to fall asleep in the passenger seat. Joan smiles, relaxing fully into the drive to her house.

Forty minutes later, she's parked in the driveway, eyes squinting at her dilemma. Wake her, or just carry her? Gazing at her companion, she opens her door and shuffles around for Vera's bag to take inside. Having turned on a couple of lights, and leaving the door barely unlatched, she carefully opens the other car door, unbuckles the smaller woman, and lifts her so she's cradled against her chest. Vera murmurs but doesn't wake, just tucks her head closer to Joan's shoulder as she's taken inside. 

Joan manages to flip the locks without incident and carries her precious cargo upstairs. Halfway up she briefly considers laying her in the guest room before remembering earlier in the week when Vera had chosen to sleep with her. Decision made, she pushes her own door open and lays Vera down on the bed. She'd shed her blazer when they got to the car but Joan doesn't want to cause any embarrassment for her charge by switching her clothes while she's asleep. Taking her shoes off, she leaves the sleeping woman on her bed and heads for the kitchen.

Almost an hour later Joan shrieks when a pair of arms suddenly wrap around her waist, then grumbles at the laughter that follows. "You could have used my keys and left me at home."

Joan's face falls and she loosens Vera's arms so she can turn around. "Why would I do that? Do you not want to be here?" _Hadn't she packed a bag just to come over? Maybe she had changed her mind after today…_

Vera grimaces and looks down. "I thought with how busy the weekend is likely to be, that our plans were canceled."

Joan slips two fingers under Vera's chin and lifts her head to catch her eyes. "It won't be a phone-free weekend like I had hoped, but I would very much like to spend what free time we get with you."

She's not prepared for the tears in Vera's eyes and is suddenly on shaky ground. "If you would like, I can still take you home?" She really, really, does not want to do that, but will also not force the other woman to stay here if she doesn't want to.

Vera violently shakes her head, a few tears escaping in the process. "No. I want to be here." She pauses to drop her forehead to Joan's chest and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I think my insecurities ran away with me hours ago."

Joan sighs, drops a kiss to Vera's hair, and wraps her up tight in her arms, swaying slightly as they just hold each other for several minutes. 

The timer going off perks Vera up and her first thought slips out unbidden. "She made dinner?" Sending Joan into a laughing fit until there are tears leaking from her own eyes. "Do you realize you talk to yourself?" She thinks it's adorable and enjoys the light blush that rises to Vera's cheeks. 

"Too many conversations with my toaster, I guess," Vera says in awe as Joan pulls a tray from the oven, peeking around Joan's side as she's too tall to look over her shoulder. That makes Vera grumble and poke the other woman's ribs. "It isn't fair that you can see everything anyone else does, but we have to go around you to peek!" _No wonder none of us get away with anything!_

Joan smirks and turns around with her prize, watching Vera's face light up. "You made crème brûlée!" 

"Hm, I made it last night. Thought you might enjoy it. I am sorry there are not biscuits in the cupboard, but I hope this makes up for it." She sets the tray on the counter and barely has time to register hands cupping her jaw before she's being kissed senseless. 

Pulling back after a minute, she smiles brightly and tucks Vera's hair behind her ear. "You know, I do believe we've done this entire relationship thing out of order."

"Where's the fun if there's not a little chaos?" Vera says, voice full of mirth. "Now, gimme a spoon!"

\--------------

Two hours, and a terrible movie later, Joan pokes her koala and chuckles at the pout she receives. "Time for bed, little one."

Vera's eyes pop open in a soft glare, too tired to make it count. "You seem to be so capable of carrying me, why do I need to be awake for this?"

Joan rolls her eyes and stands up bringing a squeal from the woman who was in her lap and is now a few feet higher in the air. "If you are asleep when we get upstairs, you're sleeping in your uniform." She would help Vera change if necessary, but would not take that privacy away.

Vera is not asleep, or at least not quite, when Joan sets her down on the side of the bed and brings over the weekend bag she'd brought in when they got home. "If you pick things, I will help you."

She watches Vera toss various bits towards the chair next to the dresser before she holds up what she'd been after. "Why do we always pack pajamas at the bottom?"

Joan chuckles and helps her unbutton her work shirt when Vera's fingers stumble over them. "They're the first thing we think of packing?" She drops her gaze to the floor while Vera takes off her shirt and bra, and puts on her t-shirt. "Can you handle the rest?" When Vera nods, she taps her nose and moves away to start pulling her own uniform off. 

After Vera comes back from the bathroom, Joan takes her turn, leaving a nightlight on in case Vera wakes up in the night and forgets where she is. Walking around the bed, she slips under the covers, laughing quietly when Vera flips over and sprawls across her chest, already deep in dreamland. "Sweet dreams, Vera."

\---------

Joan wakes up to find herself alone, cold sheets next to her. She glances at the clock and groans, flipping over to pull her pillow over her head. _How do morning people even exist?_

Half asleep, she misses the giggle that signals Vera’s return and the incoming ice cube that lands on her shoulder. Jerking upright, she stares at the smaller woman in disbelief. “Did you just…” Trailing off, her brain catches up and with a mischievous grin she grabs Vera, pulling her onto the bed and tickling her ribs until she’s begging her to stop, the two women rolling over so Vera is sitting in Joan’s lap. “You are trouble!”

Vera cackles and leans down to place soft kisses on Joan’s lips. “Yeah, but I have coffee, so I’m also amazing.” She hums against Joan’s lips as hands glide up her back to pull her closer. 

It’s Joan who eventually breaks up the kissing, leaving one last peck to Vera’s cheek when she sits up and adjusts so Vera stays in her lap but she can sit up against the pillows. Vera hands her the coffee with a wrinkled nose and Joan smiles softly at her. “You get burnt toast, I get coffee blacker than space.”

“What should we do today?” Vera still feels a little unsettled after yesterday, a demon on her shoulder poking at her memories to remind her that she is unworthy of this. 

Joan picks up on the shift in Vera’s body, wraps an arm around her waist, and squeezes gently. “We should probably stay within an hour of Wentworth, but we can go anywhere you would like.” She expected a call later from the police about the situation yesterday, but that wouldn’t be until the afternoon. 

“Maybe the Botanic Gardens? I haven’t been in ages!” She couldn’t actually remember when she’d last been, and she frowned. “Or we could go to the pier and watch the ferries?”

Joan considers the options and kisses Vera’s cheek. “The gardens sound perfect.” As much as Joan enjoys the pier, Saturdays were not the day to visit the boats, especially at the start of summer. 

The two spend the next hour where they are, talking of their day before Joan pokes Vera and grumbles that they had better get moving. Thirty minutes later they are out the door, Joan tucking Vera’s hand into her elbow as she drives.

\----------------

Later than evening, Vera drops to the couch, comfortably tired after a day trekking through the gardens and other areas of the sprawling parkland. She can hear Joan in the kitchen with pots and pans but can’t be bothered to find out what dinner is. They’d stopped at the store on the way home so Vera could have her biscuits and Joan could pick up some things she wouldn’t let Vera see. 

“Do you want to chop?” Joan asks, head peeking around the wall. “I promise not to judge your skills.”

Vera huffs and looks up over her shoulder at the taller woman. “If there’s onions, you’re on your own!” 

Joan’s chuckle brings Vera to the kitchen counter opposite the stove where various vegetables, and not a single onion, are neatly lined up for her pleasure. “What are these for?” Salad veggies were different from cooked and she didn’t want to start on the wrong dish style.

“The end four are for salad, the others are for the casserole. Cubed, please.” Joan smiles as Vera starts chopping. “Do you want beef or chicken?” 

Vera looks up and scrunches her face. “Chicken, I think.” Beef felt too heavy after a day in the sun. 

Casserole in the oven, Joan wraps Vera in a hug and walks them both to her backyard. “They are charging Mr. Fletcher with arson, burglary, assault of inmates, and intimidation of law enforcement.” She says quietly, not wanting to break the peace, but knowing Vera needed to be updated on the situation. “He is being moved to Sydney for the time being for his, and our, safety.” 

“Do you think that will matter to anyone at Wentworth?” _One of our own tried to destroy us because he thought he deserved everything without the work._ Vera sighed and looked up. “Does it matter to you?”

Joan considers the question before shaking her head. “It will be safer for all of us here if he is somewhere far away.” _Perth was a little far, but would Alice Springs have been too much to ask? Drop him in the middle of the red nothing and let him wander until lost..._

Vera nods, wishing yesterday had been avoidable, but maybe they all knew it was coming and had been placing hope in the wrong place. Hearing the timer beep, she moves out of Joan’s hold and goes inside to turn it off and check on dinner. 

Joan follows a few minutes later, pouring wine for them as Vera plates dinner. “Candles?”

Vera smiles and nods, placing their plates down and sitting across from Joan as she lights the candles on the table. “Thank you, for spending today with me.”

Joan taps her foot against Vera’s ankle with a smile. “You are welcome any day you wish.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluffy filler. I have too many little bits in my head that need to get out.

Sunday morning Vera decides to do Joan’s laundry before she throws the pile into the bin outside and watches it drive away on collection day. She still can’t wrap her head around Joan’s obsession with cleanliness not transferring to her laundry, but mentally tallies it as one of the many quirks of her girlfriend. _Girlfriend? Partner? Not lovers, yet… Language is annoying!_ She thinks and gets a little aggressive with the iron in her hands before she realizes that she’s not actually ironing anything but the board itself. Shaking her head, she places her work shirt on the board, Joan’s already done and hanging for tomorrow, and gets lost in her little world of fabric and soap.

Joan takes the opportunity of Vera’s laundry distraction to deep clean her fridge. Not that it needs it, but she’d decided over breakfast that it had been almost a month and that was too long. She chucks a half-eaten, moldy block of cheese into the bin and glares at the drawer it had just come from as she scrubs it clean with her bleach solution. _Not in my kitchen!_

Vera stops on her way upstairs with their uniforms to watch the taller woman meticulously place items back inside the fridge, pinching her nose twice to prevent the sneeze she can feel in the back of her throat from coming out. Bleach, while Joan’s best friend, was not hers and her sinuses were letting her know it. Moving away from the door with a small smile, she goes to Joan’s closet to hang up her shirts, before moving to the guest room closet to hang up her own. With her luck, Joan would try to put on the tiny shirt and they’d never make it to work on time.

Kitchen clean, laundry done with many kisses bestowed as payment, Joan and Vera wind up tangled on the couch with popcorn, five episodes deep into _All Saints_. “Imagine us having to wear those uniforms.” Vera says with a grimace. She’s so glad medical uniforms had come so far since the late 90’s. 

Joan snickers at the mental image of Vera in the spotted blouse and dark blue skirt. “We might have to change the prisoner’s colors too, then.” She appears contemplative before giving a decisive nod saying, “Pink!”

Vera lifts up off of Joan’s chest to look at her like she’s just sprouted four extra heads. “Do you want a full riot on your hands?!” _The only prisoners who wouldn’t revolt were Conway and Jenkins. Maybe Birdsworth, but that would greatly depend on whether she’d gotten into Jenkins’ hooch again._

“Riots are for babies. As long as Gambaro is in the slot first…” Joan shrugs and her mouth turns down at Vera’s look. “I still owe her for the last riot.” She brings one hand up Vera’s spine to cup her neck, thumb rubbing circles over the point where she’d been stabbed. “She’s the one who said something, isn’t she.” Statement, not question, because Joan could read it in Vera’s eyes when she mentioned the riot. 

“It was retaliation for slotting one of her boys.” Vera’s gaze drifted to the window over Joan’s head. “One had found Chang in the showers with a needle, half dead, and with some still in it. She’d taken the needle to have her own fun with and didn’t report Chang’s condition. You were gone for a few days.” Joan had been up in Canberra dealing with politicians and budgets. That had been Vera’s first week from hell since her mother’s passing. _No wonder I spiraled down…_

Joan kisses her softly. “I am so sorry I left you with those vile creatures.” She had almost slotted Gambaro the day before she’d left, but hadn’t been able to make the charge by another inmate stick enough to count. 

Vera rests her forehead against Joan’s and breathes in her scent. “It’s okay. You’re here now.” 

\------------------------

Joan really needed to do something about the sheer amount of energy Vera possessed as soon as she woke up. Today, the fateful Monday Joan is mildly dreading having said yes to, has arrived and there is not enough coffee in Australia to make her ready for today. “Do you think Bridget will have a heart attack, or just pass out cold?” 

Vera bounces on stocking feet into the kitchen to snag her tea and toast. “That depends on whether Franky can get the door locked.” She was so excited her friend would get something she so desperately wanted, and honestly needed if her moods lately were anything to go by. “Do we alert Medical, or just sneak around outside the door and listen?” 

Joan gazed at the smaller woman on her counter with pride. “Vera Bennett, I did not know you had such potential!” Goddess the things they could have put the prisoners through already had she known Vera was hiding this mischievous streak.

Vera waves her toast at Joan and sips her tea. “The blame rests entirely on your shoulders.” She immediately regrets that statement as Joan’s eyes glow and a smirk settles firmly on her lips. “ _My_ shoulders?”

Vera figures she has about two seconds to escape the kitchen without smashing the mug in her hands and decides it’s safer to run with it still half-full of tea. “No, Joan!” She screams as she slips off the counter and makes it three strides before arms are lifting her up off her feet. “You said it rests on my shoulders, did you not?” Joan says and lifts Vera high enough to actually place her butt on Joan’s left shoulder, arms holding the smaller woman steady, and looking up at her confused companion. “Maybe I should walk around with you up there at work, hmm?” _Koala, parrot, was there a difference?_

\--------------------

By the time they reach Wentworth, Bridget is ensconced in her office and oblivious to everything happening among the inmates. Vera goes with Joan to her office, placing her clear bag and their lunch in Joan’s locker, then practically running to find Doyle. Joan pinches the bridge of her nose as she walks over to her computer to watch the chaos unfold through the CCTV. 

She catches Vera getting to H-Block just in time to pull Doyle out for kitchen duty and the two walking down the hall fast enough that other prisoners are gazing after them before looking around for a boogeyman to pop out. Joan laughs at the scenes on her computer. “Oh, Vera, what on earth am I going to do with you?”

Clicking her new third monitor over to the hallway outside the psychologists office, she leans back to wait. Doyle’s appointments were back in Bridget’s calendar, Joan claiming Governor’s orders after the whole Chang debacle, for just after breakfast, giving Joan a little over an hour to plot her revenge on a certain inmate.

Vera and Franky went through the box of vegetables delivered fresh that morning, finally finding the whistle Franky had smuggled in. “Why a whistle, again?” Vera looks up at the other woman, head tilted. _Why did she have to be so short?!_

Franky hooks the chain around her neck and slips the whistle under her hoodie. “That would be telling secrets, Ms. Bennett.” Franky is positively radiating energy and Vera is suddenly aware of what she must look like to Joan in the mornings. 

Placing her hand on Franky’s shoulder, Vera squeezes twice and looks her in the eye. “If you hurt her, so help me, Franky, I will throw you in the slot for life.” 

Franky just grins and picks up the box of vegetables as her girls come in to crack into breakfast duty. “Damn, who influences who around here?!”

\--------------------------

WIth five minutes to spare, Joan sits at a random desk just past Ms. Westfall’s office and waits for Vera to bring Doyle up. Standing as she sees the two round the corner, she smiles slightly menacingly at Doyle’s shaking hands. “Remember, I gave you permission. I will take it if you do this wrong.”

Vera shoves Franky forward and opens Bridget’s door. “Doyle here to see you.” 

Bridget looks up, mouth a flat line, and nods at Vera. “Thanks.” 

Closing the door, Vera is pulled back into Joan’s body as they both lean on the door to listen.

\------------------------

“I swear to god if Westfall doesn’t get rid of that stick, I’m going to lock her and Doyle in the slot together!” Joan slumps into her chair behind her desk and glares at the laughing woman leaning against her door. “What is so funny?”

“Do you know why Franky gave her a whistle?” Vera walks over to the locker to retrieve their lunch when Joan shakes her head. “There’s this Korean tv show, this woman gives her husband, a police officer, a whistle and tells him that if he’s ever in trouble, to whistle and she’ll come running.” 

Joan looks confused and maintains her glare. “Why are women so sappy?” 

Vera bites her tongue before she reminds Joan that she, too, is just as sappy. _What’s that saying, let sleeping dogs lie?_ “Because we’re trained to be. And it’s fun!” _Besides, you love me and you know it._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, we have a little torture, a little fluff, some dead parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing super graphic. Mentions of heroin injections. Joan gives in to her darker side. Vera loves her anyway.

_“You have to feed me!”_

_“No, actually, I don’t.”_

_“Why am I here?!”_

_“Stomach is a little thick, don’t you think. The slot is the only place you will get rid of it. Remove the temptation, if you will.”_

\--------------

Joan moves silently to her locker and slides the lock open. She takes a moment to gaze at the fencing helmet on the shelf, closes her eyes, and takes two deep breaths. She's been itching for this for days. Finally, vengeance is hers to take. Spinning the helmet around, she takes the leather gloves out of their hiding place. Taking a moment to cherish their scent, and the memories they conjure, her eyes blaze with fresh malice.

She spins the helmet back around, closes her locker and walks back to her monitors, flicking them to her target. Her face slackens into one of indifference and she slides her fingers into the first glove, holding it up in the dark room to take in the smooth, unblemished shine of black leather against her skin. Flexing her fingers with a grin, she slides her other hand into its matching second skin and checks the monitors one more time. Her prey is asleep, hideous features relaxed in the safety of her empty cell.

Joan takes her time waking through her corridors on silent feet, heels exchanged for sinfully black, perfectly polished boots hours ago. Stopping at medical, she peeks through the glass, nods at the nurse on night shift, and moves further into her domain, confident that the officers are in their lounge, asleep, safe, blissfully unaware of what she does in the dark. 

Joan unlocks the gate with her keys, badge scanner disabled just in case, and steps through, lock snicking back into place behind her. Moving down the row to the last cell, relishing her prey being the only one in the shot at the moment, Joan breathes on the window in the door, just for fun, then opens it, viewing the inmate within in-person for the first time in two days. She takes the leather wrist cuffs off of her ankles, hidden under her trousers, lays them on the end of the bed, away from the thankfully socked feet in front of her. Pausing to check for movement, Joan unbuttons her shirt just above her bra, reaching in for the other item tucked away beneath her uniform, then buttoning her shirt once again. _Vera will be the only person alive to see what lies beneath_ , she vows silently. 

Picking up her toys, she moves higher up the bedside and reaches around with the cuffs, deciding to burn this blazer for daring to touch the creature on the bed. Satisfied that wrists are bound safely behind their back, she slips the small ball between parted lips, and secures the buckles at the back of the head. Stepping backwards to lean against the wall, arms folded across her chest, Joan settles in to wait for the inmate to wake.

It takes several minutes, but Joan's eyes glow with fresh energy, rolling her neck to wake up her mind, as she watches the inmate twitch, eyes snapping open with confusion before pure fear takes over and the body in front of her freezes. 

"I hope your new accommodations are to your liking." Her voice makes her inner demon shiver in delight as it slides deeper, power dripping from every syllable. "You have behaved rather well, considering your proclivities to sinister activities with the innocent among you." She pauses as her prey tries to move, whimpers barely escaping around the ball in her mouth as she tries to shuffle back to the wall for safety. _As if she will ever be safe here again_ , Joan thinks victoriously.

She drops her volume to a whisper, "shhh…," holding her finger up to her own lips, smiling gently as the woman before her goes silent again. "Good girl, Lucy." She watches Gambaro struggle to take a deep breath, mouth occupied and clearly not a nose breather. "I think it's time you and I had a little… fun."

Stepping out of the shadows, she stretches her spine to full height, lowers her left hand to her trouser pocket, and retrieves the syringe she'd swiped from medical this morning after an inmate had been found dead. Staff, assuming an inmate had taken advantage, tossing all of D-Block to find it without success. 

Joan pulls a pair of black latex gloves from her other pocket and slips them on over the leather, refusing to soil her cherished second skin with feet. Grabbing one ankle and yanking it forward, she squeezes roughly to make sure Gambaro does not move, and slides the sock off for access to the space between the toes. "I am continually amazed at how overlooked this option is. Not a single inmate in this prison has used her feet for injection in my tenure." Looking up, she pauses as the needle breaks the skin, thumb dropping the plunger as she watches Gambaro's eyes for her body's acceptance of the heroin. "Why do you think that is, hm?"

She pulls the latex gloves off and walks over to the toilet to drop them in and flush. _One of the benefits to being Governor_. Turning back to her charge she smirks, voice turning teasing. "Luucyy...are you still with me?" Watching the inmate's eyes flutter and catching a quiet grunt, Joan moves closer, kneeling next to the bed. "You have now damaged my property, twice, in ways that I find unacceptable." Her left hand lifts to slide a gloved finger against Lucy's greasy cheek. "What do you think I do with people who damage my property, hm?"

Gambaro opens her eyes, gaze gone somewhere between the two women, and tries to speak around the ball in her mouth. Joan slips her voice back to disinterested and asks, "Would you like to speak? No one can hear, or see, you." She warns, fully prepared for a scream to surface even with the small dose of heroin traveling through her blood.

Gambaro nods quickly and turns her head to better expose the buckles at the back. "You have done this before." Joan says, a hint of mirth lifting her words against Gambaro's ears. 

Buckles unfastened, ball gag placed on the floor, Joan returns her gaze to Gambaro. "You have thirty seconds. Do not mumble."

Lucy takes a moment to breathe, heroin impacting her mind, but not enough to prevent simple conversation. "We've already been punished for the fire! The riot wasn't our idea! It was Smi-" she's stopped by the hand around her throat squeezing her airway.

"Your beds are not my property, Lucy. My _property_ exists as flesh and blood." She maintains her squeeze, watching Gambaro's eyes bug out. "You have caused irreparable harm. _Twice_. Intentionally. Aimed at a single target." She can see Gambaro's mind trying to grapple with what she's saying, but failing to connect the dots being laid out in front of her. "Perhaps you need more time, hm? I can be patient." 

Slipping another needle from her trousers, Joan goes back to the end of the bed and injects the second syringe. She knows exactly how much heroin she injected and can't wait to watch the manic woman before her dance on the CCTV. The second sleep inducing drug should take full effect by the time she gets back to her desk. Rising to her feet, she removes the cuffs and carefully folds everything to fit in the shaft around her ankle. "Goodnight, Lucy."

\---------

On the third nightly visit, Joan finally gets her deal. "Give me the stuff!" Joan shakes her head and stays silent. "Fuck you, _Freak!_ You did this!" Joan's shrug enrages the new addict in front of her but a firm grip on her throat stops her dead.

"You know the terms of your release, Lucy." She squeezes a little more, enjoying the spluttering it brings. "Shall I leave you here longer, hm? I have so much time to _kill_." 

Gambaro shakes her head as much as possible and Joan lets go. "Good. One twitch against Ms. Bennett, from a single member of your _family_ , and you will come to wish you had never lived to meet me."

Joan waves the syringe in front of Gambaro and smirks as she watches the inmate sit and remove her sock to inject it where Joan had shown her that first night. "I will see you are released in the morning. Do be careful, hm?"

\--------

The next morning an incident does indeed occur, but Vera remains safe, and Joan takes delight in throwing all three of Lucy's boys in the slot herself. Lucy being in medical, full of drugs to bring her back to sober, saves her from a fresh visit to the slot. It does not, however, save her from a fresh visit from the Governor.

"You know, I do believe I made the terms of your release quite clear." Joan leans against the closed door and watches the inmate. "Care to tell me how, or why, my property was once again damaged?"

Vera was safe, bruised from being side slammed into the stair railing, and restricted to Joan's office doing paperwork, but _safe. Come on, Lucy, tell me…_

Gambaro's eyes widened in fear before squinting down into rage. _Oh, someone is going to be sorry_ , Joan thinks with glee.

"No? All three of your _family_ are in the slot. Extra time is being added to their sentences for assault of an officer." Joan says, clipping each syllable with her own rage, and doesn't bother waiting for a reply before turning and exiting the room. Let them all rot.

\---------

Upon returning to her office, Vera appears to be absent. Joan stomps around her desk and brings up every camera on the triad of monitors to find the smaller woman, anger boiling a little higher than it should be, but she couldn’t currently be bothered. _Where the hell have you gone?!_

Seeing Vera in the cage in the kitchen, Joan growls and pulls up the schedule for the day. _Why isn’t Miles in her duty station?_ Yanking her door open, she slams it closed behind her and stalks off down the hallway, wayward inmates rapidly fleeing as she heads directly for the kitchen. 

“Ms. Bennett, why are you doing Miles’ job?” Vera jumps and turns at the venom she can clearly hear in Joan’s voice, shrinking at the waves of fear, anger, and... _jealousy?_

Gathering her thoughts, trying to remember that Joan behind closed doors is _not_ the Joan currently in front of her, she bites her lower lip before looking up, not quite meeting the black eyes above her. “Miles is in Medical, Governor. She was checking the food boxes and got stabbed.” _They were all going to be the death of every officer and I don’t know if I can do this much longer._

Joan flips around fast enough to make Vera dizzy just watching her, and stomps to the fridge, throwing the door open and dumping the box of vegetables on the floor. “Take Doyle to the slot.” She barks, not waiting for Vera’s acknowledgement, simply accepting she’s doing what she’s told when heels start running across the tiles. Bending down, she picks up the gourd that had fallen apart when it hit the ground. _Fresh needles, two switch blades, no drugs_. She catalogues in her head and reaches for her radio. “Initiate full lockdown procedures, _NOW!_ ” She can hear screams, and the blaring of the klaxon, but remains in the fridge with the contraband, glaring at her in defiance.

\---------------------

In her office, inmates locked away for however long she sees fit, she waits, standing at the window, for the inevitable shattering of her soul. _Vera will not stay with you after this_ , her father’s voice tickles her mind and she throws the glass she’d been holding so it smashes into a hundred pieces. _Don’t listen to him, Joan. Remember, she’s seen you, fought for you, defied Bridget to defend you. Let her speak. Listen._

Tears begin leaking slowly as she waits, wishing more than ever that her mother were here with her right this moment. Finally, she doesn’t even know what time it is anymore, she hears the swipe of a badge followed by the click of the door opening and closing. 

Vera sees the glittering pieces all over the floor in the light from the window and looks across the small room. Tears are tracking down Joan’s cheeks, and she’s holding herself as if she’ll fall apart if she lets go. _Oh, Joan, what have you done?_

A little afraid of the taller woman, but knowing there’s a reason somewhere, even if it only currently makes sense to her, Vera walks carefully around the glass and stops in front of the woman who makes her heart sing. Joan maintaining her gaze outside concerns the smaller woman and she slowly lifts one hand to wrap around Joan’s hip. She sees Joan suppress a blink and lifts her other hand to caress a damp cheek. “Joan?”

Joan instantly falls apart, sobs escaping, and drops her head to Vera’s shoulder. She can feel Vera’s arms immediately wrap her in a firm hold, and lets her own loosely land around Vera’s waist, giving the woman she loves the ability to run away if she decides to, but desperate for the connection. 

Vera isn’t sure she hears correctly when Joan whispers, “I broke my promise,” and takes a moment to press a kiss to Joan’s neck above her collar. “What promise?” She didn’t remember any promise that would amount to the breakdown happening in front of her.

Joan takes a shuddering breath and tightens her grip on Vera for a moment. “I promised you I would be better. That I would control the darkness.” 

Vera’s brow furrows in utter confusion. _When the hell had she promised that?! Wait, what darkness??_ “Joan, look at me?” When Joan doesn’t move, Vera tries again. “I’m not letting go, but please look at me?”

Joan reluctantly takes a shallow breath and lifts her head, arms beginning to fall away from Vera when the smaller woman’s hands catch them and put them back where they’d been. “Don’t. Do _not_ pull away from me.”

Joan nods and tightens her hold once more. “I am so sorry, Vera.”

“No, you have to explain this to me. What did you do?” Vera lays her hands against Joan’s chest, feeling the erratic pulse under the layers of fabric. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

She can’t look in Vera’s eyes and say this, so she drops her gaze to Vera’s elbows between them, hoping this won’t be the last time she feels those cherished hands on her chest. “I told you I still owe Gambaro for the riot. For you being hurt. For being infected.” She pauses to close her eyes, images of Vera’s fearful gaze when the needle stabbed her flashing before her, of the aftermath, holding Vera when she brokedown days later. “‘I have been visiting her in the slot.” 

Suddenly things in Vera’s mind click. Joan’s run of double shifts covering every overnight for the last week. Joan looking at her with a mix of pride and fear every time they were in this office together. Gambaro’s boys all ending up in the slot when only one of them had slammed her into the stair rails earlier today. “What…” _What the fuck, Joan?!_ “Do you want to end up _inside your own prison?!_ ” 

Joan lifts her eyes and throws all of her hopes of a future with the woman currently in her arms into the ring. “The only person who can claim anything is currently in Medical and was high on heroin when it happened. No one will buy her story.” She pulls Vera a little closer and softens her voice. “I swear to you, I am not going anywhere. Gambaro and I have an agreement. As does Smith. Doyle will be dealt with in a different manner.” Please, Vera, don’t leave me.

Vera drops her hands to Joans arms, fully prepared to run if the next sentence out of Joan isn’t the correct one. “How, _exactly_ will you deal with Franky?” _So help me, I will pummel you if you touch that inmate in particular!_

Taking a deep breath, Joan holds Vera’s gaze, trying not to let her fear get ahead of her mouth. “I was in the process of arranging her early release.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more torture. Back to the squishy fluff.

Vera has to continue to half drag Joan out of the building and to their cars. It was beyond time to go home and they both had a day off tomorrow that Vera knew would be desperately needed by them both. _We have so much to talk about._

Getting to their cars, parked side by side at the end of the row, Vera opens hers to throw her bag into the seat. She turns around to do the same with Joan's things before pulling the older woman into her and leaning back against her own car. "I need to go home and grab some clothes." She has to stop and squeeze the other woman, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, thumb brushing soothingly across soft skin. "I will come back to you. Trust me, please."

It takes a few minutes before Joan's grip slackens and she nods, watching Vera get in her car and drive towards her home. Trying not to let fear take over, Joan gets into her own car and turns in the opposite direction to go to her home. _Please come back._

She makes it home but can't get out of the car. Sitting there, staring at nothing, she has no idea how long it takes before there's a knock on her window, making her jump. _Vera!_

Vera pulls the door open and leans against it, gazing softly at her companion. "Are you going to sleep there, or come inside?"

Joan smiles for the first time in several hours and awkwardly gets up out of her car, muscles stiff and protesting her frozen position. She looks at Vera and holds out her hand, breath puffing out of her when she feels their skin connect. "Thank you." Barely a whisper, Vera still hears it and gives her hand a squeeze.

Vera leads them up the walk and through the door, taking off her heels and watching Joan hang up her bag and work blazer next to hers. Joan turns and asks, "Dinner?"

Vera is exhausted beyond the point of food and shakes her head. She looks up and notices that Joan seems to be off with the fairies and she's sure that question was automatic, not even registering that it had been asked. Grabbing the other woman's hand, she tugs her upstairs, meeting no resistance as they move.

Once in Joan's bedroom, Vera drops her bag by the dresser and observes her partner. My turn to take care of you, she thinks, a tiny smile lighting up her eyes. Reaching for Joan's hands, she pulls the taller woman to the bathroom and pushes her to sit on the toilet. "Bath or shower?" 

Joan shrugs and shakes her head causing Vera to frown. _Showering is faster, but a bath means I can hold her…_ Turning to the taps, she waits for the temperature to level a little warmer than normal, and moves to stand between Joan's spread knees. "I'm going to take this off, okay?" Joan blinks up at her and Vera gently begins tugging the buttons loose on the white uniform shirt, pulling from her trousers and folding it carefully over the sink. "Stand with me?"

Joan doesn't really register much of what is happening, only responding to Vera's questions by offering no resistance. _Why is she still here? She’s supposed to hate me._

Vera helps Joan down into the hot water, lavender wafting up with the steam, before quickly stripping her own uniform and throwing it at the laundry basket by the door. Moving to the tub, she sits on the side, feet in to adjust to the heat, before slipping down behind Joan and encouraging her to lay back into her chest. "Come back to me…" She's sure the whispered plea doesn't get through whatever fog is plaguing her partner, but she begins to run her fingers through long black hair streaked with silver, content to hold the other woman through this storm.

Picking up the body pouf, she pours vanilla body wash into it, working it up into a lather before sliding it across Joan's chest, down each arm, and across her shoulders. "Sit up for me?" Her worries ease a little as Joan responds, hands landing lightly on Vera's thighs for stability. Back and belly scrubbed, Vera cups water up over toned muscles and watches suds begin to gather where skin and water meet. "Can I wash your hair?"

She continues this pattern until they're both clean, a few chuckles slipping out when she can't quite reach Joan's long legs and has to guide Joan's arms to clean them both past mid-thigh. She can feel Joan returning to her body slowly as they sit in the bath and she's the first to react to the shiver that races along Vera's body.

Joan sits up and pulls the drain out, wincing at the gurgle of water hitting empty pipes. She twists to gaze over her shoulder at the woman behind her, lips twitching in an attempt at a smile earns her a smile back and a kiss dropped to her shoulder as the smaller woman moves to stand and wrap herself with a towel before holding a larger one open for Joan.

Both dry, Vera grabs their brushes and tugs Joan to sit on the bed. Pulling pajamas and undies out for them both, she slips on hers then walks back to Joan to tug the knot in the towel open. 

Joan looks up, registers the t-shirt being held in front of her, and lifts her arms so Vera can slide it over her torso. She blinks slowly when Vera drops to her knees and lifts each foot through so she can pull her undies up her legs. She lifts her hips and closes her eyes when she feels the band settle around her hips and settles back onto the mattress.

Vera spends the next half an hour brushing through both of their hair, tying her own into a loose braid, before she pokes Joan's ribs with a smile. "You gonna join me, or be a statue?" Smile widening when Joan grabs the hand in front of her, Vera throws the sheets and blankets back, poking Joan until she's in the bed and climbing up after her. 

\-------

"Vera, if you don't get up I'm kicking you out." The laughter that meets her ears leaves a smile across her lips, widening as kisses land against her neck before a pillow is dropped on her face. "Be right back!" Vera bounces up out of bed and out the door faster than Joan can grasp. _Morning people…_

Vera returns, pulls the pillow from Joan's face, and leans over her partner. "Coffee next to you!" Giggles grace the air as Vera drops the pillow back into Joan's face. Joan flops the pillow to the floor and sits up, watching Vera climb back into bed and immediately snuggling into Joan’s shoulder. “Thank you.” She grabs her coffee and draws random shapes against Vera’s thigh as they sit quietly together.

After the sun begins to creep high enough across the bed to reach their knees, Vera looks up at the other woman and whispers, "Walk with me?" Vera wanted to take advantage of the calm neighborhood, and it being a Friday, to go spend some time in the local park. We need to be out of buildings today.

Joan nods and sets her mug on the nightstand. “I’d like that.” She drops a kiss to Vera’s forehead before nudging her gently so she can get up without the smaller woman toppling over. Walking to her dresser, she pulls clothes out and moves to the bathroom, softly closing the door with a click to change and mentally get ready.

Vera sighs when the door closes and gets up to collect her own things. Not bothering to change rooms, she throws her t-shirt at the bed, planning to wear it again tonight and knowing Joan will grumble when she sees it. With a smile plastered to her face, she goes downstairs to slice a couple of apples to take with them. 

Twenty minutes later, the two women are headed out, Joan locking the door while Vera waits by their cars. “Where are we going?” Joan holds out her elbow which Vera wraps her hand around and points to the left. “I thought the park would be nice. It should be quiet still.” 

Several blocks later, Joan can’t hold it in anymore. “Are we going to talk about it?” She didn’t want to, but Joan knew she was in trouble with the woman she never wanted to disappoint. 

Vera squeezes the arm under her hand and sighs. “Why the drugs?” _Didn’t she and Smith have a deal? What would happen if they found out?_

Joan grimaces and keeps her eyes anywhere but Vera’s face. “Leverage. It was just enough to get her hooked. Enough to get what I needed.” 

Vera tilts her head, mind trying to put the puzzle together in a new order. “What was that?”

“Your safety.” Joan had guaranteed Vera’s safety whenever Smith, Conway, and Doyle were near, but Gambaro’s boys didn’t give a shit who they hurt. _Bulls in a China shop, the lot of them._

Vera stops walking, causing Joan to halt and take a step backward to match her again. “What else?” She looks Joan dead in the eyes, daring her to continue to dance around the issue.

Joan sighs but meets Vera’s gaze. “Her boys are the reason Fletcher had easy access to the younger new inmates, and the reason Doyle lost her chance at parole a year ago. I need her help as much as Smith’s.” Wentworth really was a mess once the surface personalities and bitch fights were dealt with.

“Wait...” Vera’s memory surfaced, something familiar from before Joan swept into Wentworth around the time Doyle’s life slid backward again. “They’re also the reason the weapons showed up yesterday, right?” 

Joan nodded, wondering where Vera was going with this. “Apparently Channing got his hands deeper into the prison than just certain officers.”

“Before you, shivs had honest blades, not just bits and pieces of whatever the prisoners could get their hands on.” She had been genuinely afraid of going to work most days, but staying home wasn’t any better and her life of torment hadn’t let her even begin to imagine a life doing something else.

“No one looks at them as more than simple thugs, but Gambaro lets them get away with things she shouldn’t.” _Maybe separating them by blocks will help._

Vera lightly tugs Joan’s arm and begins walking once more, the park entrance a block away. “So, you mentally tortured, drugged, and threatened to kill a woman because I’ve been hurt by her, and her family?” _Why doesn’t that scare me as much as it should?_

“Ms. Westfall is not entirely wrong about me. I do have certain...traits that I cannot seem to fix.” Joan hadn’t been as angry with the accusation of being a psychopath as she had been about what the psychologist had done to the relationship she and Vera were only now beginning to grow again in ways she’d lost hope of ever achieving. 

Vera moved closer to the other woman’s body, careful not to be in the way of long legs as they kept walking. “I killed my mother, Joan. It doesn’t really matter why we do things, as long as we acknowledge that we did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments!


End file.
